


Project Indigo

by riiwriting



Category: DC Animated Universe, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: DC comics - Freeform, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, F/M, Original Characters - Freeform, Superheroes, Young Justice - Freeform, Young Justice season 1, dctv - Freeform, dcu - Freeform, doesnt stay true to canon, justice league - Freeform, not CW DC, not canon, young Justice cartoon, young Justice fic, young Justice season 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 13:05:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15752253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riiwriting/pseuds/riiwriting
Summary: When offered a chance to turn her entire life around, Knives, a young assassin working in Coast City, takes a leap that she never thought she would. Now committed to working with five other teenagers with powers that seem vastly superior to her own, Knives has agreed to become the one thing that she spent her whole life avoiding.She and her unruly teammates are officially the good guys, working on their own accord to save the people they choose. The Justice League can take care of the big threats, Team Indigo just takes on the task of protecting the little guys.However, when things get a little too tough for the big guys, they’re forced to reach out to the gang of vigilantes for help. Though most of the team votes against helping the League, Knives makes the decision she knows is right.After all, they are the good guys.





	1. Introductions

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time ever posting a fic on AO3, so bare with me while I try to successfully maneuver through this site. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy this story!
> 
> The first two paragraphs of chapter one are written in third person point of view. The rest of the story is written from Knives’s eyes, unless otherwise noted.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I own none of the characters in this story with the exception of those who I created. 
> 
> This story is based mostly in the gap between season 1 and season 2 of young justice, with later chapters falling into the second season. As it is a fanfiction, there will be certain relationships that will be altered.

THE WORLD may have been better off without Elizabeth Latkins, or Knives, simply in general. There was too much evil in the world already, and from the looks of it, Knives was nothing but a bad egg. Even in primary school she was moody and cold, excluding anyone who even attempted to befriend her. She spent the evenings of her adolescence training by her dad's side as he knowingly sculpted her into the bloodthirsty criminal she soon would become. She idolized her father, not only for his strengths but also for his weaknesses. While she always knew he was a corrupt man, she found it easy to forget that fact when he treated her with such love and tenderness. He was the only person that she did not hold even the slightest bit of contempt for. And when he left, her last bit humanity left with him. She was seventeen when she began putting her skills to use, and life was easy without any morals to live by. She did what she had to - killed who she had to - to survive. That was just the way she was destined to live her life.

It is simply this; from the very beginning, Elizabeth Latkins had more demons than anyone else in Coast City. And while those demons were what drove her into her original, murderous career, they also were what saved her from it.

* * *

I squinted against the darkness, the mask which hid my identity not helping my field of view in the slightest. I twirled a knife in my gloved fingers as I waited, watching. The road was barren, street lights glowing dimly, hardly illuminating the sidewalk below. The client was lucky he was offering so much – this was becoming quite a tedious job.

At a quarter past one, the door to an office building swung open, and I became more alert. Tightening my steady grip on the knife, I continued watching patiently as the target glanced around at his surroundings. He was paranoid, no doubt, and with good reason to be. As he stepped away from the building and began to slowly make his way down the street, I straightened my back and squinted harder. I readjusted my grip and wound my arm. I analyzed his step pattern: one, two, three, slight pause, repeat. I watched again. He paused, and I counted.

One, shoulders back.  
Two, stance readied.  
Three, knife raised.  
Pause, throw.

"I don't think you want to do that," a voice whispered in my ear. With a small sound of surprise, the knife left my fingers at an odd angle, landing inches behind the target. Rather than hitting him, it simply spooked him, and I watched helplessly as he dashed away.

With a furious growl, I drew another knife from my belt and whirled, aiming perfectly at my new acquaintance's throat. A pair of calm, gray eyes stared delicately back at me, and a tight-lipped smirk mocked my failure. I pressed harder, the blade of my knife now held against the stranger's skin. "Who," I hissed quietly, squaring my shoulders, "do you think you are?"

"Relax, Miss Latkins." The man cooed with ease, his smirk turning into a smile. He brought his hands up innocently, his expression never faltering. He spoke with an aura that baffled me, "I'm simply here to offer you the opportunity of a lifetime."

I couldn't help but worry about the fact that he so easily guessed my identity, but I had bigger fish to fry. I took in what he had said, and countered with a snark of my own. "You better start talking," I spat as I readjusted my grip on the knife, "you've got all of sixty seconds before I slice your throat."

"There isn't much to it," he hummed matter-o-factly, "I just want to help you better your life. Isn't that what you've always wanted?"

"No," I said flatly, and it was true; I never wanted to fix my life. I was content with who I was, what I was doing. I had no morals, nothing I cared for, no restrictions. Though I sometimes wondered what my life would consist of, had I chosen a normal path, I knew that such a fate had been impossible. This was just how things we meant to be. No ominous stranger could change that.

He sighed, "I should have supposed this wouldn't be easy. Look, all I'm doing here is extending an invitation, an opportunity. You could be something greater than this, Elizabeth," I grimaced at that name, pressing closer to him. His eyes flit down to the dagger in my hand, and he quickly continued, "All you have to do is give me a few hours of your time. I think I'll be able to surprise you."

I stared at him through narrowed eyes. A tough growl vibrated out of my throat, "And why should I trust you, old man? What's keeping me from ending your life right here, right now?"

A cocky, aggravating smile wormed its way onto his lips, "I do believe that if you weren't the slightest bit curious, I would be swimming in a pool of my own blood by now, no?" He spoke in a knowing tone, and I so badly wanted to tear him off of his high horse. However, there was some restraint in the back of my mind holding my hands firmly in their positions, not moving forward nor backwards.

I blew a strand of stray hair away from my eyes, "You sure have some nerve, old man. You're real lucky, too."

He chuckled dryly, "I wouldn't say lucky, Miss Latkins." There was a sure gleam in his eyes as he stared down at me, as though he were seeing right through my entire facade. He tilted an eyebrow, "What do you say? Lend me an ear?"

I stared for a long, long moment, trying to piece things together. There was so much behind those eyes, that much I could tell, but what it was was a mystery. The logical bones in my body screamed as I slowly retracted my blade. "Two hours," I grumbled despite myself, "and if you waste my time, your life gets a lot shorter."

* * *

 

"I see I wasn't your first choice," I growled, eyeing my company suspiciously. There were six of us in total, and from the looks of it, the others were just as educated on our situation as I was. None of us knew who this man was, or why he crowded us into this old, abandoned apartment. We had no idea why he chose us, or what we had in common. We didn't know what the hell was going on.

The only thing setting me apart from the rest of the group was my drastically different attire.

The man by my side simply chuckled, "Trust me, I made very meticulous choices. You are here for a reason."

I huffed a short, "Yeah, trust," but it seemed to go unnoticed. The man glided to the center of the room. He took a deep breath, before addressing our group, "Okay look, I know that you all want an explanation, and I know that you want it as quickly as possible. So I'm going to keep this short and to the point," he paused for a moment, his sweeping gaze drifting across each of our blank faces.

He puffed his chest, and gave his speech, "My name is John Lebenoff, and I have a very important mission for the six of you. Each of you are here because you possess a certain skill set that is both needed and desired. None of you are perfect, in fact, most of you are quite the opposite. You all come from dark backgrounds, and you all live unique, yet similar lives. But what none of you realize is your potential to be something greater, something stronger, something better."

"Get to the point, man, I ain't got all night," a Latino boy urged from the corner of the room, a nasty scowl on his face. The dark skinned girl who stood closest to him nodded with a similar expression.

Lebenoff pressed on, "I'm here, with all of you, because the world needs your help. The world needs heroes like you. The worl-"

I held up a hand, shoving my way into the center of attention, "Look, Superman, I'm not a hero, nor do I have any desire to be. So all I really got out of your cute little schpeal is that you're wasting my time."

"Yeah," another boy chimed in, "I've spent my life running from the good guys, why the hell would I wanna be one?"

"Because, Wildfire," Lebenoff started, his gaze focusing on the tall, red-headed boy, "you can either join me, or go back to your lonely, unfulfilling lives. I am offering you not only the chance at redemption, but also a team full of like-minded and equally powerful peers. Not to mention the adventure of a lifetime. The correct choice, I think, is quite obvious."

It was silent for a moment, and I exchanged glances with the boy who had officially been dubbed "Wildfire." I couldn't believe that I was even thinking this over, but before I thought up something to say, a short, Asian boy spoke for me, "Look, even if we wanted to join your Super Crusade, isn't it kind of the Justice League's job to be the good guys. The world doesn't need our help."

A blonde girl who had yet to make a peep backed this theory, "Yeah, I mean, I'm all for this... super team thing, but it seems kind of unnecessary."

"While it's true that the Justice League seems to handle most of the big threats America faces, they seldom ever bat an eye when it's the little guys who are in danger," Lebenoff pointed out, seemingly striking a chord in each of us. He smiled a little bit, "and if my research is correct, there has been a time in each of your lives where you could have used a superhero, yet no one came running."

The thoughtful silence from earlier returned as we each adverted our gazes awkwardly from anyone else's. The idea of having the support of a superhero was one that never even crossed my mind, so the idea of being one was unfathomable. I had spent over year killing people for a tidy salary, and felt no remorse doing so. I was an assassin, not a hero. No one needed someone like me.

But at the same time, this... adventure posed as an opportunity to leave everything behind, to change the destiny that I thought I had always been meant to follow. This might be my only chance at seeing other options.

The bubbly blonde girl was the first to raise her hand, her green eyes glistening with excitement. "I'm in!"

The Latino boy's agreement came soon after. He mumbled something to himself before meeting Lebenoff's eyes, "I haven't got much to lose. I'm in too."

Next came the dark skinned girl, who shrugged her shoulders gently, "I've already been saving people around the neighborhood, it's about time I broaden my horizons."

The Asian boy stood up from his seat on the worn-out arm of the only chair in the room. He gave Lebenoff a curt nod, "Yeah, count me in."

It was a slow and painful silence that followed his agreement, as both Wildfire and myself stood silently in our places, neither of us giving hints to what we were thinking. Finally, my male counterpart spoke up, "I'm tired of running from the fuzz. If this can clear my name then... I'll join your stupid band of misfits."

Everyone's head swiveled towards me, and I crossed my arms over my chest. For a moment, I didn't budge. I thought long and hard about the next few words that were going to come out of my mouth. This decision, whichever route I might choose, determined the course for the rest of my life.

I took a heavy breath, exhaling sharply through my nose, before shaking my head. I met Lebenoff's steely gaze before opening my mouth, "No way. I don't do good." I turned my gaze to the five new heroes across the room, their eyes wide at my decision. I gave a tiny smirk, "I guess I'll be seeing you guys on the news."

I turned on my heel and made for the door, ignoring the soft whispering behind me. As I reached for the handle, a sharp, "Now wait just a minute," stopped me in my tracks. I glanced over my shoulder to see a twisted look in Lebenoff's eyes. "You know, I would hate for the authorities to catch wind of the real girl behind the notorious Knives.

There was a sharp inhale and an inquisitive, "Like, the assassin?" which was quickly silenced with a hiss.

I completely turned to face the older man, a spark of anger igniting in my chest. "You're going to blackmail me into becoming a do-gooder?"

"It's not ideal, surely," he admitted, crossing his arms, "but you leave me no choice. This pl- er, team, it needs you. I'm afraid you'll be joining, willingly or otherwise."

My right hand drifted towards my belt, my finger tips securely wrapping themselves around the hilt of a knife. I cocked an eyebrow, "Yeah? And what's stopping me from following through on my rooftop promise?"

Lebenoff's smirk was unfaltering. He nodded his head to his right, "Them."

My line of sight followed his gesture, quickly finding attentive eyes framed in faces far too similar to mine. For the first time in a while, my heart missed a beat. We were all so young, yet so beaten. I had never met people so alike to me. My hand went limp.

I turned my gaze back to the ringleader at the front of the room. I grimaced, "You win, Lebenoff. I'll join your stupid brigade. But there are a few things we need to get clear."

Lebenoff perked an eyebrow at me, obviously inviting me to continue.

"We go by our rules. We choose our leader, we choose who we save, and we settle our own disagreements. If you want us to be some super team, then you're just gonna have to trust that we can make our own decisions. I don't know why you're so desperate to bring us together, but we're here now. So now you can mind your own damn business. Does that sound reasonable?" I proposed, challenging him to say no.

I don't know what I expected, but a grin most definitely wasn't it. Nevertheless, Lebenoff's face lit up, and a glint of admiration accompanied his gaze. His grin didn't falter, "I'm glad we're on the same page."


	2. Training

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent forever on this chapter, so hopefully it’s cohesive and relatively easy to follow! As always, I hope you enjoy!

From the smug look that was glued on Lebenoff's face, I could tell that he was more than proud of himself. He had, in his own twisted way, managed to get all of us to agree to all of his terms. We were to work as a team to save people. We were to do this in an honest fashion. We were to become the good guys. And most importantly, we were to leave all of our demons behind– we were to start anew.

That last one was... easier said than done.

Though I still doubted that I had any business being a hero, I went along with it. I didn't have anything better going for me, and if it meant maybe cleaning my slate, then there was at least one positive factor. However, when it came to Lebenoff himself, I still had my suspicions.

I don't know how he was able to dig up so much information on all of us. He knew my birth name– a name I ditched years ago– and exactly where I would be, and what I would be doing. He knew everyone's powers, everyone's abilities, and everyone's flaws. He knew us like the back of his hand. And we knew nothing about him or this super idea of his. As far as I was concerned, he was on track to becoming our number one enemy.

Yet here we were, doing what he advised us to. And all because we were so desperate to escape our previous lives. How bad did these people have it, to so trustingly plummet into the hands of a stranger with nothing but a promise? What the hell were we thinking? 

I swore that I would figure out  _exactly_  who Lebenoff was. I didn't know what kind of angles he was trying to play, or what the hell his big idea was, but I wasn't going to follow him blindly much longer. And from the look in some of my cohorts eyes, I didn't think they would either.

But for the time being, I had to play on his team.

"Wait, so you're telling me that I'm the  _only one_ without some sort of freaky power?" I asked the man, somewhat awestruck by the abilities that my new teammates possessed. When I reluctantly agreed to be a part of this team, I didn't know that I was agreeing to work with super humans. If I had, I might have been a bit more willing.

Lebenoff chuckled, "Well, to put it simply, yes, you are the only member that doesn't possess a genetic ability. However, Snapshot's photographic memory is not a super power, it is simply a gift he was born with." I glanced towards the boy Lebenoff described, put a bit to ease by the boyish grin on his face. He was clearly the youngest of all of us, and also the most cheerful in regards to the whole situation. I couldn't stop myself from wondering what his story was- what any of their stories were. 

We had been a team for about 36 hours now, and while we were all running on no sleep and lingering distrust, we had decided as a unit that we needed to become aware of everyone's skills. Of course, at that time, I had no idea that my colleagues were meta-humans. Now that I did, I had a considerably larger amount of respect for them. However, that quiet respect was no match for the hesitance that kept me on guard.

Since gaining the knowledge that our base of operations was going to be the quaint little apartment we were first brought together in, we realized that we were going to need to find another place to train. That lead us to an abandoned farm located on the outskirts of the city, a place that apparently had served as a home to Wildfire when he first had to escape from the adoption home he had been holed up in. Someone had asked him for an explanation once we got there, but he offered nothing more than a gruff "forget it."

Secrets, secrets, secrets.

The farm appeared small from the outside, a thick row of trees almost completely hiding it from the dirt road. The only visible portion of the property was the tiny white farmhouse, in all it's chipped-paint and water-stained glory. Just behind the house was a large, abandoned barn, which the team decided would be the containment unit for our training utilities (not that we had much to begin with). The real prize of the property was of course the giant, hidden fields that rolled out behind the house. In such an open yet secluded area, the only person that really needed to keep a lid on their powers was Wildfire, as he had the potential to start a... well, you know.

Tidal Wave, the darker-skinned girl who seemed to be the only one that knew what they were doing, was currently showcasing her water-bending powers. She was dressed in what appeared to be a nearly professional super suit, all business from head to toe. There was an ever-present focused gleam in her crystal eyes as water propelled from her hands, shooting out in streams that seemed never-ending. When Hypno, the Hispanic, mumbling boy, questioned if that was  _all_  she could do, she used her powers to send two thin streams of water into his body– one through his nose, and one through his mouth. His eyes widened with horror as his lungs began to fail him. She let him suffer for a minute before ending his torture, leaving him spitting water and gasping for air.

Tidal Wave stopped her presentation there, and I quickly became aware of two things. The first was that I was in better company than I originally thought, and the other was that I was the only one who had yet to perform in our little talent show.

Wildfire and Tidal Wave both had shown off their elemental powers, Hypno had mind-controlled Snapshot into doing multiple things, including cutting his own hand, which Sage promptly healed and strengthened, and Snapshot had memorized the location of all the set-up targets and then shot at them perfectly – with his eyes closed. Now, it was my turn.

I hoped to stall a few moments, as the rest of the group seemed still enthralled in Tidal Wave's powers. I turned to the grey-eyed man beside me, questions darting around my mind. There was more I wanted to ask Lebenoff about, more I needed to know, but I didn't get the chance.

There was a break in the water-oriented conversation. Wildfire was on my case before I could get another word out, "So,  _Knives_ , should I even bother asking what you're capable of or... does the name sum it up?" His tone was crisp and pointed, his eyes hazy with a bored glaze. I had quickly become privy to the fact that Wildfire was quite a pain in the ass.

I let out a frustrated breath. If the whole me not having superpowers thing was going to continue to be this annoying, then I had a life waiting for me that I'd be content to go back to. "Wow, Hot Cakes, I've got to admit that I'm a bit surprised you were smart enough to figure that out. I mean, considering you're obviously not smart enough to refrain from taunting someone who's name is  _literally_  Knives," I shot back, giving the boy a challenging look.

He let out a short chuckle, leaning back against the outside of the barn. He tilted his head a little bit, a small smirk toying at his lips, "You say  _literally_  like 'Knives' is the only name you've got. I think you and I both know that we all have names we haven't shared with the community yet."

"Yeah, well I think there's a lot we haven't shared with the community yet," I snarked, giving the boy a cold glare. 

His faked a yawn and glanced at his wrist as though he were checking a watch. "So... can we get this show on the road? I've gotta be honest, I'm not that interested in staring at you any longer," he remarks coldly, his eyes wandering up and down my body with disapproval.

A hot anger flooded through my veins as I stared at him in disgust. "Now you listen here, Fire Ant-" I started, but was cut off by an innocent voice.

Snapshot's eyes were wide as he stared between myself and Wildfire, "Uh... before we do anything rash..." he stopped there, and I took a deep breath, realizing that it was for the good of the entire team that I just get back to business. 

I sent a final glare at Wildfire, who raised his hands innocently, as though he weren't at fault, but his smirk never faltered. Nevertheless, I figured I had proven my point well enough, and I turned my back to him. I instead focused on the targets in front of me. They were basically just scarecrows with targets painted on them, but we were apparently on a budget, and all I really needed was something solid. It's not like the targets were really necessary - I never threw a knife without knowing exactly where it would land. Still, I set my sights on the bullseyes, and in one natural, swift process, a knife had gone from my belt to the center of the target. It's not like such a feat was all that impressive, but I figured between the speed and the accuracy, I had something going for me that the others didn't.

Of course, Fire Boy just had to open his mouth again. "Cute," he mocked, "glad to see that this is what the five of us had to wait so long to see."

I didn't bother turning around. I already knew exactly what look he had on his face, and I had a better idea. I straightened my back just a tiny bit, and removed another knife from my belt. I rotated it in my hands for a short moment before casually chucking it over my shoulder. As soon as I heard the satisfying  _thump_  of it hitting and sticking in the barn wall, I smirked. I casted my glance over my right shoulder, and to my enjoyment found Wildfire's face centimeters away from the throwing knife, his smirk nowhere to be found. His eyes were wide and crossed as he stared down his nose at the handle of the knife which suspended just slightly to the left of his head.

I crossed my arms across my chest. "That better?" I asked sweetly, giving him a tight-lipped smile. 

Hypno continued the taunting for me. "That should teach you to watch your mouth," the boy shouted from a few yards away, a giant grin on his face. Snapshot sent me a nod of approval and two thumbs-up.

"If you think that's impressive," I shouted to the two other boys, "then I can't wait for you to see me do it with swords."

Sage, the bubbly blonde, appeared at my side, a fascinated look on her face. She nodded at the sheath on my back, "You have a sword in there, right?" I nodded slowly, and her eyes got even wider, "And you like, are completely trained with that too?"

"Yeah. Trained with all blades and most forms of hand-to-hand," I answered simply, giving my shoulders a small shrug. I then proceeded to explain further, "A sword is just a big knife. It's better for anything close-combat, so I always keep it with me. Besides, this katana is kind of like good luck charm." I patted the end of my sheath to clarify what exactly I was talking about.

"Your sword is your good luck charm?" Wildfire asked, his tone a little less insulting this time. I swiveled my head to look at him and was quite amused to find that he had shuffled a few feet to his right, and was no longer putting all of his body weight against the barn.

I shrugged and gave a short nod, "Yeah, it was the first weapon I ever trained with, and it's arguably what I'm the most skilled at handling. It's like... my comfort weapon."

"Some people have a security blanket," Hypno started as he and Snapshot approached us, "Knives has a security katana." Both Sage and Snapshot laughed at his joke, as dry as it was. Tidal Wave let out a short disapproving huff, and I was appreciative that someone here had a decent grasp on what was funny and what wasn't.

Snapshot snorted, "Yeah, and I bet you still have a security teddy bear, huh Hypno?" He elbowed the older boy, who in return punched his new friend in the arm.

Tidal Wave let out a small sigh, and simply said, "Boys," a statement that got a nod of agreement out of both Sage and myself. Sage then changed the topic by asking Tidal Wave a question about her powers, and they launched into a new conversation.

While the two boys joked and the two girls conversed, Wildfire appeared at my side, that annoying smirk back on his lips. He held up his index finger, "One more question for you, Swords."

I rolled my eyes at the name and sent him a tired glare. I sighed, "And what is that, Forest Fire?"

He ignored the incorrect title and instead raised one eyebrow, an inquisitive look on his face, "We've been pretty well hazed in here, so when are you gonna take off the-" he waved to the area around his eyes, for some reason feeling gestures work better than words.

"Mask?" I asked impatiently, narrowing my eyes at him. When he quickly nodded, I took a deep breath and shrugged, "It doesn't come off. That's just how it is."

The whole uniform was crucial. The mask kept me off of wanted lists, the black helped me with stealth, and the belt and sheath helped with easy weapons transport. The boots were comfortable and balanced. The clothing was form fitting, yet stretchy enough that they were easy to move it. It was simple, but it worked. And I didn't need some fancy, star-spangled cape. All I needed were some dark clothes and a mask.

Wildfire seemed unpleased with my answer. Brushing me off with a quiet huff, he moved to join the other boys in their conversation.

Lebenoff came over, smiling widely at the six of us. He spoke happily, "Honestly, on the physical front, I don't think you need much guidance," he commented, throwing in a nod of approval. "I do have one order of business I'd like to discuss with you all, though."

We all exchanged short glances, a bit hesitant to hear what other rule he was going to propose. I raised an eyebrow, "What else, Lebenoff?"

"Well," he started, rubbing his palms together almost anxiously, "this isn't necessarily something that has to happen, but I would appreciate it if at least one of you would stay in the apartment– make it your home." He specifically looked between Wildfire and myself, as he must have known that neither of us really had a stable place to live in. He explained a little further, "For security reasons, of course, one of you staying there would be extremely beneficial. There's some high tech in that apartment, and I'm afraid its location might make it a good place for squatters. And, well, you'll all be spending plenty of time there as it is."

Snapshot was the first to decline, as the young teen had a home with his parents. Sage was next, explaining that she had to take care of her grandma at home. Hypno sang a similar tune, saying that his younger brother couldn't sleep without him. Tidal Wave, the oldest of all of us, already had an apartment in town.

That left, as I had figured, Wildfire and myself. We shared a small look, both seemingly trying to nudge the other to go first. When the silence reached the  _uncomfortable_  point, Wildfire scratched the back of his neck and pitched his excuse. "I was actually uh-" he paused, clearing his throat, "I was considering staying here, in the farmhouse. I've stayed here before, it'll be something normal for a change. Besides, I'll be able to keep an eye on the training grounds."

Lebenoff nodded slowly, clearly showing that he respected the younger man's decision. And then all eyes were on me once more. When I realized that I didn't really have any reason to say no, I sighed. I didn't sleep much as it was, and I was getting tired of sneaking into my brother's old room in the middle of the night– tired of praying that my mother would be too out of it to hear the widow open.

So really, house-sitting the apartment was a good gig for me.

"Sure," I stated dryly, shrugging my shoulders as I did so, "I guess it beats what I've got going now."

Lebenoff grinned, clapping me on the shoulder, "That's exactly what I'd hoped you'd say. Now, take these," he paused to hand a small, black device to each of us. I eyed it cautiously, flipping it about in my hand. It seemed to be surprisingly advanced for our rag-tag operation. 

"It's like a pager," Lebenoff began, placing the last one into Hypno's palm, "but with more functions. It will send out an alert with the location and reason to each of you whenever you're needed. That way, you can communicate with each other easily, and you'll be able to know exactly where you're needed at all times."

Snapshot muttered out a cool as he fiddled with the device, Hypno twirled it in his fingers as he examined it, and Wildfire eyed it suspiciously. We three girls, however, just tucked them into our pockets, figuring we'd take closer looks at them when we got the chance.

After the distribution of our communication devices, we debriefed, and parted for the first time in far too many hours. Wildfire was the first to leave, disappearing into the farmhouse. Lebenoff scurried off immediately after, claiming he had some work to attend to. Tidal Wave and I shared disapproving glances at that, and it was clear then that I wasn't the only one suspicious of our team's founder.

There was, however, one thing that Lebenoff said before he left that stuck in my head. Whilst saying something along the lines of us being successful so far, though under his breath, he didn't call us a  _team_. No, instead he called us a  _project_. 

I held that word firmly in the back of my mind as Tidal Wave offered a ride back to the apartment. This whole thing would start to make sense, piece by piece. I was sure of it.


	3. The First Morning

The next day's excitement began as soon as I awoke. It was still dark out, hardly passed four, and I had not gotten the chance to wake on my own accord. I instead was jolted awake by the loud creak of the apartment's front door, and immediately I reached under my pillow and gripped the blade that rested there. I sat up on the couch, tugging my mask from the nearby coffee table and placing it carefully over my eyes. Knife in hand, I waited.

The light in the small entryway flicked on, and the door creaked shut. I watched silently until a lean figure turned the corner, and as quickly as I possibly could, I flung my knife across the room. There was a loud gasp, and then a blast of water, sending the airborne knife just to the left. It hit the ground with a thud, and the water disappeared. I blinked a few times, and my gaze quickly met two wide, blue eyes.

When I realized who it was, I let out a relieved huff, and leaned back against the arm of the couch. Tidal Wave's soft voice filled the air soon after, "I knew I should have knocked. Sorry Knives, I just figured maybe this way I wouldn't wake you up."

I waved my hand dismissively, gripping the bridge of my nose between two fingers. "No, you shouldn't have to knock. It's fine," I grumbled, my voice still gruff from slumber. I rolled my neck, relaxing the muscles that my sleeping position had tightened. I then sat completely straight, planting my feet firmly on the carpeted ground. I raised an eyebrow, "What are you doing here at this hour, anyway?"

Tidal Wave ignored the question for a long moment. She flicked on the main living room light, and I watched as her supersuit-clad figure leaned against the counter. Her hair was pulled back, though her curls were still in full spring. Her choice of uniform was similar to mine in that it was simple, though hers was slightly more colorful than mine, and she was less covered. She wore a blue halter-style top that tucked tightly into snug black pants that were held in place by a thick blue belt. She held a vibrant teal mask in her hands, though she promptly tossed that onto the counter she leaned against. She seemed ready for business, and there I was, sitting half-asleep in a t-shirt and shorts. I felt awkwardly exposed.

"Don't sleep much," she said blandly, "figured I'd be of more use here than at home." She glanced around the apartment for a moment, as if she were seeing it for the first time. She shook her head, clearly unimpressed. "I can't believe that this is going to be our 'base of operations,'" she said quietly, a frown on her face, "I'm starting to think more and more that this is all some joke."

I nodded slowly, rubbing my face with my hands. "Yeah," I started coolly, "it's not even really an ideal living place."

"Well, that's easily fixable," she pointed out, laughing gently, "but you should start with sleeping in one of the two bedrooms, rather than the couch. I swear, you're the only person I know that would even consider not sleeping in a bed."

I shrugged, "Like you, I don't sleep much. Doesn't really make a difference to me." I stood up from my seat, stretching my back as I did so. "Besides," I grunted gruffly, my back cracking, "one of those bedrooms isn't a bedroom. It's got a bunch of funky tech and some complex computers in it. Figured I'd ask Hypno to check 'em out later." I looked around the small apartment for a moment and realized how much truth there was in her original statement. Despite the weird, professional office, there really was no way we could turn this place into a superhero base. This  _was_ starting to feel like a big joke.

Tidal Wave leaned against the counter. Seemingly brushing off my tech comments, she started a new conversation, "So, how long do you think it'll take for us to really get into this... hero business?"

I shrugged again, folding the blanket I had been using. "None of them have even fought before," I commented dryly, placing the square blanket onto the seat, "they have super powers, sure, but there's a lot more to it than that."

She nodded in agreement, "Oh trust me, I know." She tilted her head, and it seemed like something clicked in her mind. "Hey, you know what you're doing though, right?" When she saw the look on my face, she quickly refined her statement, "I mean, you, uh, you're trained, yeah? You could get out there and fight right now if you wanted to."

"I'm no hero, I think I made that clear," I started flatly, my lips drawn into a narrow line, "I know how to fight, and I know how to survive." That, of course, was a fact- I was nothing near being a hero. She seemed like a seasoned vigilante, one of those by-the-books kind of people. I knew how to fight, and I knew how to complete a mission. That was about it. I scratched behind my ear as I continued, "That being said, yeah, I think I've got a pretty good handle on my abilities. Fighting for good can't be too different than fighting for bad, can it?"

Tidal Wave gave a small smile, "I don't know, Knives. You can't exactly go out there and start making kabobs. We have to make sure citizens know we're on their side."

I realized that she was most definitely right. There probably was a whole lot that I was going to need to learn. By the same token, there was a lot that she seemed to already know. I furrowed my eyebrows and changed the topic to her, "So... you're already a small-town hero, huh?" 

She titled her head back and forth, as if weighing the question. "I guess," she said after a moment of debating, "I'm nothing special. Just someone who stops muggers and purse snatchers. Save the occasional kitchen. Nothing medal-of-honor worthy."

I nodded understandingly, "So you're like... neighborhood watch. But cooler looking."

She laughed, her curls bobbing as she shook her head. "Sure. Cool looking neighborhood watch. That's me." I found myself quietly chuckling along with her. There was silence for a moment, before she turned the conversation back around, "And you? Just an assassin for hire trying to make a living?"

"Something like that," I huffed softly. I didn't really fancy talking about the whole kill now, ask questions later business I was a part of. This was supposed to be my chance at shedding that, after all. Another steady silence filled the air. I glanced over at Tidal Wave, who had busied herself with looking through every nook and cranny in the kitchen. Without a word, I scooped my uniform into my arms and slipped into the bathroom to change.

The apartment wasn't well-stocked in the slightest. There was an old bottle of shampoo and some body wash that had no smell in the shower, a lonely soap container on the sink, and a single towel folded on the shelf above the mirror. The medicine cabinet was completely barren, save for an untouched matchbook. From Tidal Wave's disapproving comments, I sensed that the kitchen wasn't much different. This job really was going to require more than just saving people.

I peeled off my sleepwear and slipped easily into my trusty uniform, immediately feeling more secure. I took my mask off for just a moment, staring at my own countenance in the mirror. I didn't make a habit of checking out mirrors, but every time I did the reflection seemed a bit different. More bruises, darker bags, paler complexion. Something was always different, yet so eerily the same. I splashed water against my features in hopes to wash the sleep away. I gave myself another long once-over before fitting my mask tightly back over my eyes.

When I returned to the main room, Tidal Wave was sitting on the counter, her eyes transfixed on the black pager in her hand. "Figured that out yet?" I asked casually as I tossed my pajamas into a heap at the side of the couch.

She shook her head, a frown on her face, "Not really. I mean, I haven't tested it out or anything because there's kind of been no need to, but I'm also not the best with electronics, anyway. I guess I'll ask the others when they trickle in."

I nodded in agreement, plopping back down on the couch. I grabbed the remote and turned the tv on, flipping through the cable channels. All there really was was news, which of course was overflowing with the usual subjects. Batman, Superman, Green Arrow. Flash, Black Canary, Wonder Woman. Justice League, Justice League, Justice League. Saving the day once more. 

I continued my safari through the channels boredly, stopping only when Tidal Wave yelled a quick, "Wait!" I went back to the channel she had wanted me to keep on, sending her a confused look. I shook my head, "I don't get it, it's just another news channel."

She shook her head, pulling the remote from my hand and turning the volume up. The broadcaster wasn't talking about the Justice League, they instead were talking about the younger heroes, consistently using nothing more to identify them than The Team. When I glanced at Tidal Wave, there was a thin smile on her face. "They're just like us," she said softly, her eyes steady on the screen.

I snorted, "Okay, no, no they aren't." When she gave me a sour look, I shrugged, "I hate to burst your bubble, but come on. They're apprentices and fledglings to the big boys. They've got all the tech, all the means, all the respect. And I'm pretty sure that half of them  _aren't_ wanted for some kind of crime. So... yeah. Not us."

Tidal Wave nodded slowly, "I guess you're right." Her voice was glum as she changed the channel, exiting the news section and instead falling into the pit of sales channels. "I still think it's cool," she said distractedly, "that they're people our age doing all that super stuff. They're good people to look up to while we're forming our own team."

Again, I let out a discontent huff. "They aren't the kind of heroes I wanna look up to," I criticized sharply, "Sure, they help fight the big bads, and that's cool. But we're supposed to take care of the little guys. People like them never care about the little guys."

"I guess we have our work cut out for us then," she smiled, hitting the power button on the remote. She bumped my shoulder softly, "It's time that we make a new breed of superheroes. We get to be the people we never had."

* * *

By nine everyone had assembled in the compact main room of our... base. Tidal Wave sat on the kitchen counter, her legs crossed beneath her. Wildfire was posted in the recliner in the very corner of the room, a brooding look adorning his face as everyone around him chattered. Sage and Hypno sat on the couch, their eyes glued to the news on the television screen. I stood leaning against the refrigerator door, trying my hardest to ignore the hunger pangs attacking my stomach. Snapshot bounded over to me, a goofy smile on his face. He held out a hand, "You know, we never formally introduced ourselves to each other."

"Guess not. Kind of not a situation where formalities are necessary," I hummed, trying my hardest not to glare at the empty fridge. Snapshot's eyes were fixed intently on my face, something that made me quite uncomfortable until I realized what was wrong. With a sigh, I gave his hand a short shake, "Knives."

His grin just widened, something I didn't think was humanly possible. "Snapshot- well, that's the alias. You can just call me Willy. It's like short for William, but Will and Billy are both dumb so-" 

"Willy, got it," I interrupted, giving him a taut smile. I spared his soft expression another glance, and although I had a feeling that his boyish innocence was going to get a tad frustrating, I found it hard to stay mad at him. 

Tidal Wave glanced over her shoulder, "Are we exchanging pleasantries now?" There was a slim smile on her face, her eyes glimmering through her mask.

Willy shook his head, "Nope, just names."

The older girl gave him an endearing smile, "If that's the case, then mine's Maria. I'm starting to get tired of hearing 'Tidal Wave' all the time."

Both Maria and Willy looked at me expectantly. I raised my eyebrows at them, slightly confused for a short moment. When I figured out what they were awaiting, I chuckled, "Oh, yeah. Nope, just Knives."

"That cannot be true," a sharp voice called from across the room. I turned to find the source of the chide, though I knew exactly who was behind it. Wildfire had a disbelieving look on his face as he leaned forward, his arms resting on his knees. He blinked his eyes blankly, "You really expect us to believe that your mom decided to name you after a kitchen utensil?"

I gritted my teeth as I stared at him, that smirk that I loved so much lingering on his lips. I bit the inside of my lip to maintain control of my patience. "I don't care what you  _believe_ , Smokey, Knives is all I've got."

He opened his mouth to fire back, but was cut short by a higher, more pleasant voice. "Well, my name isn't really Sage." We all turned to look at our resident healer, who had a soft smile on her lips. She explained, "I got that nickname from my grandma because it was the only sort of tea I'd drink with her. My real name is Vanessa."

Everyone in the room smiled at her anecdote, as if the small story gave the entire situation a small sense of normality. Hypno quickly followed the pattern, "I'm Javier. Everyone just calls me Javi though. I... honestly couldn't tell you the last time I heard someone use my full name."

Five pairs of eyes fluttered over to Wildfire, who's expression had returned to the same solemn state as earlier. When he caught everyone staring, he grunted out a short, "What?"

Javi perked an eyebrow at him inquisitively, "You got a name, or...?"

Vanessa nodded eagerly, her face soft in hopes of egging him on. His eyes swiveled to meet mine, and I just raised an eyebrow, my arms crossed firmly against my chest. He sighed, "I guess if... Bradley. My name's Bradley."

Willy's countenance lit up, "Cool! Can I call you Brad?"

"No," Bradley deadpanned, his cold gaze digging into Willy's. The younger boy's face immediately changed as he nodded, his eyes dodging his older teammate's. A silence fell over the room as everyone struggled to find a subject for discussion. When no one came up with anything, Bradley stood. "Well, this whole team bonding exercise has been exciting. Now, who wants to go get into trouble?"

Maria's jaw nearly fell slack at his words. She stared him up and down, as if attempting to judge if he were serious or not. When she evidently decided he was, she tentatively asked, "Isn't that like... the opposite of what we're doing here?"

A glint of adventure flashed in Bradley's eyes as he turned to her, a smile on his face, "Well fine. Why don't we go get into trouble  _with_ trouble, then?"

"That, uh... doesn't really make much sense. And I feel like we should wait for Lebenoff... right?" Javi evaluated, scratching his neck awkwardly. Sage seemed to agree, but no one else said much as Bradley surveyed the room with a sweeping gaze.

When his eyes met mine, I sucked in a deep breath. He really was the last person I wanted to go crusading around town with, but I also was not in the mood to stick around waiting for gramps to come give us a creek cleanup assignment. I pushed off of the fridge in one fluid movement, crossing the room towards the door as soon as I did so. "Let's go, Ash-hole. We've got a city to save," I called over my shoulder. 

I planted one hand on the doorknob and turned, waiting impatiently. Bradley was quick to join me in the entryway, but he paused for a moment, holding a finger up. The apartment was silent, except for the quick shuffle of shoes. Willy turned the corner, car keys in hand. He tossed them to Bradley with a grin, "You'll need these, and we'll need to stop by the farm. I haven't got my firearms with me."

Bradley gave me a knowing look before exiting the base, Willy and I in tow. I turned to the Asian boy besides me, "You ready to become a hero, Snapshot?"

His face lit up while he nodded, "Hell yeah. Let's go stop some crooks."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For more Team Indigo content, check out my tumblr and wattpad, both using the same username of Riiwriting! :)


	4. Officially Heroes

"Really eventful first mission we've got going here," Bradley remarked sarcastically, his fingertips drumming against the steering wheel.

We were parked behind the Big Belly Burger that was nearest to the farm, waiting impatiently for Willy to return with our order. "Look, I'm not getting anything done on an empty stomach," I grumbled, my eyes transfixed on the corner of the building.

Bradley's drumming stopped as he instead gripped the steering wheel. His jaw clenched, "And we couldn't have just gone somewhere that has a drive through?"

I rolled my eyes at his argument. "Not in this outfit," I answered gruffly, gesturing more to my mask than anything else.

"Oh right, so let's send the kid with the cowboy hat and the guns into the fastfood joint instead. That sounds a whole lot easier than just taking a stupid mask off," he jeered, his face contorting in annoyance.

I turned angrily to fully face him, frustration completely taking over. "First of all," I started loudly, reaching into the backseat to grab Willy's discarded uniform. I pulled my hand back, forcefully swatting the ginger's arm with the felt hat, "his stupid hat is right here." I smacked him again with it, and wound up for a third go, but was stopped by Bradley's strong hands pulling the Stetson hat from my grip. He tossed it back over his shoulder, and I watched as it softly hit the floorboards. Willy's jacket was in the back too, but I didn't dare move that, for I knew exactly what was under it.

I turned to face Bradley once more, this time meeting his annoyed gaze as soon as I did so. I opened my mouth to finish my yelling bout, but was stopped by Bradley's firm hand covering my lips. "Give it a rest, Spoons," he groaned, "I'm already tired of you."

I slapped his hand away from me, my face flushing with anger. He sent me a satisfied smirk as I seethed silently. He chuckled, "For a gal who's supposed to be deadly, you were real harmless with that hat."

Angry remarks bubbled in my mind, but I didn't get to use any, thanks to soft tapping on the back window. Bradley unlocked the doors and Willy slid into the seat behind me, placing a greasy paper bag on the console between myself and Flame Boy. "Sorry to interrupt... whatever you guys were doing," he said cheekily, leaning down to pick his hat up off of the ground.

"You didn't interrupt anything," Bradley muttered, his hands returning to the steering wheel, "Knives was just hangry."

I glared at him as I reached for the bag of food. He glanced at me through his peripherals, a smirk tugging at his lips. I griped as I grabbed a burger from the bag, "Just drive, dirtbag."

"Where are we headed?" Willy asked through a mouthful of fries, tapping my seat with his foot.

Bradley's eyes were fixed on the road as he pulled out of the parking lot, but he answered Willy's question with more politeness than I thought he was capable of, "The worst neighborhood in the city, over near the drill site. Cops kinda don't go over there much, there's always guys hot-wiring cars and mugging teens just trying to get home."

Willy shuddered, "Charming. And... why are we going down there?"

I turned to look at him over my shoulder, a playful smile on my face. "What Willy, scared?" I taunted lightly, getting a good laugh out of the blush that crept onto his cheeks. He started to stutter out a retort, but I saved him from further embarrassment, "We're heroes now, gotta go where the danger is."

"That's fair," Willy muttered, quieting for a minute. His voice raised again with another question, "So who's gonna be robbing people in broad daylight?"

Bradley gave a snort, "That fact that you even asked that question proves you've never been to this part of town."

Willy hummed, tapping his foot, "I guess it's just hard to imagine a place like that in Coast City."

The boy beside me gave a sigh as he turned a corner, "You won't have to imagine it must longer." There was something almost mistakable for sadness in his voice, and something almost mistakable for sympathy arose in my stomach. Willy didn't say anything else, and neither did I.

I think that was the moment that Willy realized that there was a lot more to this gig.

* * *

I leaned against the hood of Bradley's car with Willy, taking a small drink from the almost-empty to-go cup in my hand. Willy's fingers were twitchy as he rotated from adjusting his belt to straightening his hat. I kicked his muddy shoe with my boot, "Relax, big guy. I doubt we'll even find any trouble around here."

He shook his head, "I don't know, Wildfire seemed to know what he was talking about." He glanced about him, his eyebrows furrowed, "Hey, where'd he go anyway?"

I looked around as well, realizing that our fiery friend was out of sight. I shrugged, a frown quirking my lips downwards, "That is a great question. Maybe we sh-"

I was cut off by a feminine cry for help. Willy and I both swiveled to stare in the direction of the distress call. A middle-aged woman was hurrying our way, tears streaking her face as she hobbled along on a broken heel. A glittery clutch was held tightly in her hands, jewelry accenting a torn and muddy dress. She caught our eyes and waved her arms, "Please! Help!"

Willy and I immediately sprinted her way, not seeing what was necessarily the problem, but clearly seeing that she needed help. As soon as we reached her, she glanced over her shoulder in horror. We followed her gaze to two tall men who came barreling around a street corner, their faces completely covered with masks. Willy let out a shaky breath, "God, right in with the cliches, huh?"

"Now's not the time, Snapshot," I hissed, stepping forward. I turned to the woman beside us, "I suggest you stay far away, Ma'am. We'll have this dealt with in no time." She nodded hurriedly and gratefully before continuing her jaunt towards Bradley's car.

I stood my ground as the men approached us, non-verbally encouraging Willy to do the same. I heard him suck in a deep breath before tipping his hat down, his hand going to the pistol on his side. The men came to a sudden halt in front of us, staring us down. The one on the right let out a chuckle, "What, cops can't come around here so they send some teens to defend justice?"

A smirk twisted it's way onto my lips as I tilted my head, "Somethin' like that." The men exchanged a smug look before pulling out switchblades, taking  _menacing_ steps toward us. I clicked my tongue, "Knives. What a coincidence. I play with those too."

With no further discussion I sprung into action, sending a snap kick into the man closest to me's chest. He stumbled backwards, and, using his disorientation as a window, I withdrew a knife of my own from my belt and flung it at his hand, piercing his skin and disarming him. His switchblade skipped across the pavement harmlessly, coming to halt near a lamppost a few yards away. He stared up at me through his mask, a flame of anger in his gaze. He swung his non-injured fist haphazardly, coming into contact with nothing but my blocking forearm. A vicious elbow to the nose drew blood and rattled his focus. Another forceful palm strike and his eyes went wide before dropping closed as he fell from consciousness, landing on the ground with a thud.

Willy was short on the draw, his eyes wide at the entire situation. The other man used his surprise against him, taking a swipe aimed at Willy's chest. My teammate jumped back in the nick of time, his face growing serious as he gained a grasp on the situation. He pulled his pistol from his holster and, with his hat tilted low, fired at the man's hand, breaking his flimsy weapon. The man let out an exaggeratedly pained holler, falling to his knees to hold his hand. Both the attacker and myself were surprised to find no blood or hole in the rough palm. While the enemy stared in wonder at his hand, Willy stomped between his eyes, sucking the consciousness from his body.

I turned to Willy with wide eyes, "What on... what kind of bullets?"

He smiled proudly, holstering his pistol on his hip. He tipped his hat back up so that his bright brown eyes met mine. "Bean bag rounds. Pack quite a punch, but are designed to specifically not break skin. Pretty useful for this hero business," he gushed while he spoke about them, seemingly excited that someone asked.

"Wow," I started, still registering what he said, "And uh, how exactly did you get them?"

"They aren't too hard to come by," he started, but stopped short, remembering the situation, "We er- we can chat later. We should probably call the cops."

I nodded in agreement, and he quickly pulled out his phone. He started dialing the number but paused, instead turning and handing his phone to me. I raised an eyebrow at him, and he gave me a sheepish smile, "I feel like you'd be better at this."

I finished dialing in 911 and pressed the phone against my ear, motioning for him to go and check in on the woman we saved. When a dispatcher answered, I cleared my throat and adjusted my voice slightly. "Hello, yeah uh- I need to report an attempted robbery." When the woman asked for clarification on the word  _attempted_ , I swallowed, "Y-Yeah, attempted. We were able to incapacitate the attackers. We don't- Er, they're unconscious." I was expecting another string of questions, but instead got a deep breath and a prompt for the address. "The corner of Twenty-Third and Whitney. Thank you."

When the dispatcher hung up, I was slightly put off. There were more questions that she could've asked - that she  _should've_ asked - but didn't. She seemed almost bothered, especially by the address. I guess it was true what Dad was always saying. As soon as superheroes come about, cops get lazy.

I stared at the two bodies at my feet, their chests heaving slowly. Blood trickled from their cuts, but they would be fine. At least until they got to the precinct, anyway. I walked over to my knife that glistened against the pavement, grimacing at the blood that surely would stain its tip. I crouched and grabbed its hilt, wiping the red liquid against the black shirt of the nearest robber. "Jesus," I heard a familiar voice whistle. I glanced up to find a pair of impressed green eyes staring at the work below them, accompanied by a satisfied nod. Bradley turned to meet my gaze, "You didn't kill 'em, did you?"

"Don't think they'd be breathing if that were the case," I growled, rising to my feet. He nodded at that, a look of agreement on his face. I returned the used knife to my belt and crossed my arms. I stared at him angrily, "And where the hell were you?"

He waved me off, turning and making for his car, "Not important right now. I've got some jumper cables in the trunk, we can tie them up and get out of here before the cops show up."

I wanted to scream at him, or better yet hurl a knife into his back, but instead just simmered, following closely behind him. While Bradley went straight for the trunk, I stopped near the hood, where Willy was awkwardly patting the hysterical woman's back. She looked up at me, her face immediately brightening, "Oh, you! Thank you so much! I don't- I can't- Oh god!" She rubbed her face exasperatedly, taking a deep breath, "I don't know what would've happened if you two hadn't been here."

I gave a slim smile, "Well, that's what we're here for, ma'am."

Her brows knitted as she repeated my words to herself. I watched at her eyes widened, her gaze flitting between Willy and I. "Oh! You must be two of those... super people, right? The kind that are always on the news?"

Willy grinned, "Yes Ma'am, that's the job description."

She smiled softly, "Such a blessing, really. Never see your type around here, saving people like me." More tears streaked down her face as she praised us. Her hands flew to her wallet, "Please! Let me offer you something, anything. How much?" Her trembling fingers flicked through dollars and cards.

I shrugged, figuring cash was cash, "I mean, however much-"

"Nothing, Ma'am," Willy interrupted, sending me a glare as he held up a halting hand. When she looked at him, he shook his head, "We don't do what we do for money. We're here to help people."

She smiled, more tears falling down her face. Bradley returned then, wiping his hands on his pants. He motioned behind him, "All tied up over there. They won't be a threat anymore. Even singed a few of their hairs off for good measures." He snapped his fingers, a small flame arising from his thumb after he did so.

The woman stared at his fingers, her eyes wide, "Super. Definitely... super."

Sirens screamed in the distance, and Bradley and I shared a look. I turned to the woman briskly, "There are the police. You're safe now, and that's our queue to leave."

"O-oh!" She moved back to the sidewalk, thanking us again as the three of us hurried into Bradley's car. Willy sent her one last wave as Bradley clicked on the ignition. We all took deep breaths as he turned around, driving the opposite way the sirens were coming from.

* * *

We were slow getting back to the apartment, mainly due to our having to use the back roads to avoids the police kerfuffle from where we just left. The drive back was pretty quiet, as Bradley didn't seem to want to talk about his disappearance, and Willy's adrenaline rush had worn off. We opened the front door and were immediately hit with the sound of the blaring tv, and a loud, "GET IN HERE!"

The three of us hustled into the living room where Vanessa, Javi, and Maria were clumped together on the couch, staring at the screen. They were watching a news channel from the sounds of it, and Maria quickly waved us over. We moved so that we had a view of the screen, and were immediately surprised. A reporter was standing with the woman we had just saved, a yellow box with the large letters "New Super Team?" spread across the bottom of the screen.

Bradley furrowed his brows, "They never give a damn about areas like that, why do they care now?"

Maria smacked his arm, "Because of you guys!" She nodded towards the tv, where the woman was thanking us again. She mentioned my calling Willy Snapshot under my breath, and our willingness to jump into combat to save her. She also brought up Bradley's fire fingers, a comment which made me glare at the tall boy next to me. Maria grinned at us, "You guys are officially heroes!"

"Yeah, and it's hardly passed lunchtime," Javi laughed, giving us each nods of approval. As if on queue, his stomach growled, "Speaking of... anyone up for burgers?"

Vanessa and Maria nodded, as did Willy, whose excuse was, "I could always eat burgers." Bradley, who hadn't eaten anything earlier, agreed as well.

I, however, shook my head. "Been there once today, one can only eat so much Big Belly Burger in one day. Besides-" I cast my glance towards the door that lead to the office, "I have some things I want to check out."

Javi followed my gaze, his face brightening, "Oh, the computers? I was working with 'em earlier. They aren't too bad, so you shouldn't have trouble," as he spoke, the rest of the team moved about the room, grabbing coats and keys. Maria and Vanessa hollered goodbyes to me as they left, Willy and Bradley close behind. Javi was the last to leave, pausing just inside the door, "If you do have any trouble," he reached into his pocket and pulled out his pager, waving it in the air with a smile, "feel free to hit my line."

With that, he disappeared into the hallway, shutting the door behind him. I took a deep breath as I grabbed the remote from the coffee table and shut off the television, not wanting to hear any of the garbage from the few news reporters who were debating whether superheroes were friends or foes. The apartment quickly grew quiet, and I was suddenly hit with a wave of realization that this was how things were going to be from here on out.

As I looked about the small room, I felt my lips purse. Maybe it wasn't ideal, but... I guess it was mine. And that made it okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the one before it went through some h e a v y editing.


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